Freaks
by Wolfy1515
Summary: Following the Chamberlain Disaster, Carrie White is rescued from the brink of death by Caitlin Sinclair and Esther Ahdel, two women who are anything by ordinary. Within her manor in Indiana, Caitlin offers sanctuary to young men and women with extraordinary abilities. Will Carrie be able to start over and begin a new life?
1. Chapter 1

Back by popular demand, it's _Freaks_!

**Full Summary:** Following the Chamberlain Disaster, Carrie White is rescued from the brink of death by Caitlin Sinclair and Esther Ahdel, two women who are anything but ordinary. Within her manor in Indiana, Caitlin offers sanctuary to young men and women with extraordinary abilities. But in the midst of Carrie's transition back into a semi-normal life, opposing forces have already begun to rise and a very dangerous threat looms on the horizon – one great enough to destroy them all.

**Disclaimer:** I do not own _Carrie_ or any of the films, books, or music mentioned in this fanfiction.

**Claimer:** I do own all my OCs.

**UPDATE:** The setting of _Freaks_ has been changed to modern times, taking place in 2013 as opposed to 1979. However, the story will still closely follow events from the original novel, including the ending. I will be incorporating elements from both the original film and the remake as well, such as Carrie's physical appearance, which I will be basing off the remake. That being said, I hope you enjoy _Freaks_ and your feedback is greatly appreciated.

* * *

*** Chapter 1 ***

* * *

**Excerpt from **_**Ogilvie's Dictionary of Psychic Phenomena:**_

_Telekinesis_ is the ability to move objects or to cause changes in objects by force of mind. The phenomenon has most reliably been reported in times of crisis or in stress situations, when automobiles have been levitated from pinned bodies or debris from collapsed buildings, etc.

The phenomenon is often confused with the work of _poltergeists_, which are playful spirits. It should be noted that poltergeists are astral beings of questionable reality, while telekinesis is though to be an empiric function of the mind, possibly electrochemical in nature…

* * *

_Portland, Maine. May 27, 2013. 11:46 __p.m._

All was quiet and still. The only sound came from the rumble of cars passing by the hotel. From her room on the top floor, Caitlin Sinclair was offered a lovely view of downtown Portland. She'd drawn the curtains back from the floor-to-ceiling window, letting her look both at the multicolored lights of the city and at the star-speckled night sky above.

The young woman of twenty-seven rose from her desk and strode over to the window. The lights outside caught in her curly brown hair and made her ivory skin almost seem to glow. Her bright green eyes scanned the cityscape while she idly fingered the silver pendant draped around her neck; it depicted the archangel Michael.

She watched the people coming and going down below, scurrying to and fro like little ants. So naïve. So _blind._

Their concept of reality was so fragile. It could be shattered in an instant. And what then? Panic and chaos in the streets, of course. That was how most Normals reacted to such things. If they learned of the people who lived among them the "Freaks" everything they thought they knew about what was possible and what was impossible would fall away, worthless. God only knew what would happen after that. Hatred? Violence? War? Genocide?

Caitlin lowered her eyes to her pendant. The archangel was in mid-flight, poised with sword and shield, ready to smite all those who would dare oppose the Lord. While most Normals remained blissfully ignorant, there were those among them who believed people with special powers were demons or Satan spawn. But didn't God love _all_ His creations? Yes, there were people who possessed special powers, whether by birth or human experimentation. Did the Lord not love them as much as the mentally retarded or the infirm or all the others considered different and outcast?

_Then God saw everything that He had made, and indeed it was very good._

The media portrayed people with powers in many different ways Mutants, Specials, Supers, Metahumans. Caitlin preferred to affectionately use the term "Freaks." That's what they were, after all. That's what she herself was.

A Freak.

Movies, television, and comic books showed Freaks becoming heroes, fighting against the Freaks who "went bad" and the "evil" Normals who wanted to destroy them all. Sometimes the Normals loved the Freaks; they praised their powers.

Caitlin found the concept ridiculous. There _were_ Freaks who used their powers in particularly nasty ways, but even if a Freak did everything right did nothing to deserve being hated they'd be met with nothing but fear and hatred. Almost all Normals feared what they didn't understand.

Caitlin returned to her desk. She looked at the radio on the shelf above the desk, and it turned on all by itself. The dial moved as if controlled by an invisible hand, stopping only when she found a station that was playing a song she liked:

_ Hello, darkness, my old friend_

_ I've come to talk to you again_

_ Because a vision softly creeping_

_ Left its seeds while I was sleeping_

_ And the vision that was planted in my brain_

_ Still remains_

_ Within the sound of silence_

Caitlin hummed along with the song as she looked down at an article laying on the desk. It was a clipping from the Westover weekly _Enterprise_, dated August 19, 1999, and it detailed how a "rain of stones" had apparently fallen from a clear sky on August 17th on Carlin Street in the town of Chamberlain, Maine. The most damage was done to the property of Mrs. Margaret White, a widow who lived with her three-year-old daughter, Carietta. Of course, that was several years ago, so little Carrie wasn't so little anymore.

To anyone else it would have sounded like some B.S. story pulled from a conspiracy magazine. But Caitlin knew otherwise.

Telekinesis was something she knew a great deal about, being a Freak herself, and this Carrie White obviously possessed some form of telekinesis. Caitlin continuously wondered where the stones were pulled from, but she didn't waste too much thought on it.

There had been no other reports following the stones incident, but Caitlin knew that one would surface eventually. It was impossible to keep that kind of power _completely_ hidden. She made sure to keep a close eye on the case.

_Come on, Carrie. Just show me you have the power._

She pitied the White girl. She'd heard all about the abuse she suffered at the hands of her peers. After doing a little research, she learned that Carrie's mother, Margaret, was an unstable, abusive woman with near-fanatical religious views.

_Oh, God, have You no mercy?_

If Caitlin had her way, she would have retrieved Carrie weeks ago. But because the stones was an isolated incident, there was no way to be sure if it was connected to Carrie. She couldn't take action until Carrie's powers were confirmed. And that frustrated her beyond belief.

_I can save her. I can take her away from this hell. Just show me what you can do, Carrie. The tiniest display of power would be enough._

For now, she would have to be satisfied with simply monitoring Carrie from a distance. She had one of the first-year teachers, Rita Desjardin, on her payroll, and it was Ms. Desjardin's job to report anything strange to Caitlin.

It had been fourteen years since the stones; Caitlin had learned of it only six weeks ago. She couldn't monitor Carrie all the time, though. She still had to run the family business (which dealt with medical research and pharmaceuticals) if she wanted to keep her vast fortune. That's why she was in Portland that night. An associate in the city wanted to discuss a business deal and blah, blah, blah. She felt like Bruce Wayne sometimes: billionaire by day, hero by night. Her _other_ work consumed most of her time. Between that and the family business, she was often left completely exhausted.

Caitlin leaned into her palms and released a dispirited sigh. She looked at a lamp on one of the bedside tables. It rose into the air and she effortlessly lifted it up and down. Up and down, up and down. Like lifting a dumbbell. Years of training like this had let her master her power. She imagined Carrie would probably do the same if she learned she possessed telekinesis. It was quite an entertaining ability once one fully mastered it.

The door opened suddenly, startling Caitlin. She almost dropped the lamp, but managed to lightly set it back down. Esther Ahdel, one of Caitlin's closest friends, entered the room. Esther was a tall woman with mocha-colored skin, thick black hair, and chocolate brown eyes. She seemed so Normal at first glance… until one took a closer look at the inside of her mouth. Her canines were long and narrow, like cobra fangs. Esther said she was forced to participate in a cruel medical experiment when she was younger. Artificial venom glands, prosthetic fangs. It was screwed up stuff.

Esther's eyes were very wide. She looked like she'd seen a ghost.

"What's wrong, Esther?" Caitlin asked.

"We may have a problem." Esther's thick Israeli accent rolled over every word she spoke. "And it might involve Carrie White."

Caitlin was immediately on her feet. "What? What's happened?"

"Turn on the news."

Caitlin did. A scene of apocalyptic magnitude filled the screen an entire town on fire. Flames engulfed buildings as firemen tried in vain to control the blaze, but most of the fire hydrants had apparently been vandalized, limiting the amount of water accessible to firefighters. A female newscaster provided more details: "A disaster of major proportions has struck the town of Chamberlain, Maine, tonight. A fire believed to have begun at Ewen High School during a school dance, has spread to the downtown area, resulting in multiple explosions that have leveled much of the downtown area. A residential area to the west of the downtown area is also reported to be burning." Cut to an image of a suburban neighborhood on fire. "However, most concern at this time is over the high school where a junior-senior prom was being held. It is believed that many of the prom-goers were trapped inside. A Westover fire official summoned to the scene said the known total of dead stood at sixty-seven, most of them high school students. Asked how high the total might go he said: 'We don't know. We're afraid to guess. This is going to be worse than the coconut grove.' At last report three fires were raging out of control in the town. Reports of possible arson are unconfirmed."

"Oh, dear lord…" Caitlin murmured. "Wait, what happened to those fire hydrants? I noticed that they weren't working."

"They were vandalized," Esther replied.

"Vandalized? Vandalized how?"

"If I heard the newscast correctly, the lug nuts were twisted off."

"This is why I wish state officials would listen to me…"

"Kate?"

"I _told _them this girl had power. But did they believe me? No, of course not. If only they'd let me take her before it was too late…"

"There's no way any of us could have prevented this, Kate. And let's not jump the gun here. We don't know that Carrie did this."

"The lug nuts were _twisted off_, Esther. Do you know how heavy those things are?"

"Well, yes. They have to be to… to prevent vandalism."

"Exactly. And _all_ of them had their lug nuts twisted off. How does one manage to do that in a short amount of time?"

"You may have a point."

Esther watched as Caitlin picked up her long black coat from its place on the bed and put it on. She grabbed her purse and started toward the door. She paused in the doorway to look back at Esther. "Are you coming or not?"

Esther nodded and followed her out. "What do you plan to do, Kate?"

"Get to Chamberlain and see if I can do something to stop this. And then I'm going to get Carrie White out of here."


	2. Chapter 2

*** Chapter Two ***

* * *

_Chamberlain, Maine. May 28, 2013. 12:40 __p.m._

Caitlin tightly gripped the wheel of her Ford Mustang as the vehicle roared down the highway. Esther was on the passenger side, clinging to her seat for dear life. Usually riding with Caitlin was pleasant, but when an urgent situation came up, Katie had no qualms about rip-assing down the road. Once they made it to Chamberlain, however, Esther had no problem with it.

The entire town was on fire. The town whistle shrieked and fire sirens wailed over the monstrous roar and crackle of the many fire. People were running for their lives, most in robes, nightgowns, and pajamas. Explosions rocked the night, coming from all parts of the town. There was no darkness, just the hellish red glow of the fires. _Like the Apocalypse,_ Caitlin thought to herself. _All that's missing is the Seven-Headed Dragon._

Caitlin swerved sharply to avoid fallen power lines and burning debris, throwing both her and Esther into the sides of the car multiple times. They saw bodies slumped over in the street, most smoking, some still twitching. The downed power lines were spitting bright, burning sparks like sparklers on the Fourth of July. Caitlin and Esther could see Ewen High School, now reduced to smoldering ruins. Red fire trucks raced through the streets, trying to quell the raging fires with what city water they could tap.

They managed to locate the police station, and it seemed that the building had been made into a makeshift hospital. There were many people there, most wrapped in blankets and not moving too much. Caitlin noticed that a some of them were teenagers in prom-wear. She scanned the group of people, but didn't see the girl she was looking for.

_That'd be too easy._

Caitlin parked the car out front, and she and Esther went into the station. They were met with a variety of looks fear, curiosity, grief, hopelessness. A few doctors were seeing to the injured.

Caitlin took hold of her companion's shoulder. "Esther, see if you can help these people. You _did_ go to medical school, after all.

"What are you going to do?"

"I'm going to see if I can find out where our friend Carrie went."

Esther went to assist a doctor while Caitlin walked among the crowd. Her secondary power was put to good use. She briefly scanned the thoughts of those around her, searching for anything a thought, a memory that might help lead her to Carrie White. She was surprised by just how many had recognized her, considering she could find nothing to indicate that they'd ever seen or met Carrie before. A man named Thomas Quillan saw her near the fire hydrants, where the lug nuts apparently unscrewed themselves. A woman, Cora Simard, saw her come out of a church just before the power lines began to fall on Carlin Street. Every mind she looked into told a story of loss and destruction. The End of the World, the Apocalypse, the Final Judgment.

_Perhaps that's a bit melodramatic…_

Caitlin glanced around and happened to spot a familiar face among the disheveled prom-goers. It was Rita Desjardin. She looked like she'd been through hell: her long blond hair was mangled and appeared to have been in a bun at the start of the night, the silver sheath she was wearing was in tatters, and her shoes were missing. She was bruised and a little cut up. Caitlin was aware that Rita had been chaperoning at the junior-senior prom going on at Ewen High School. Perhaps she could shed some light on the whole situation.

The thought had barely crossed her mind when she suddenly felt a pair of arms around her waist. She looked down and saw a teenaged boy clutching her, gawking up at her with a crazed grin on his face. His hair was sticking up in every direction, there was blood on his forehead, and one eye was purple and swollen shut. She couldn't tell if he had received a nasty shock or if he'd simply suffered a mental breakdown. Either way, he was creeping her out.

"Hey wha "

"She pulled all the plugs," the boy said, grinning at her. "Pulled all the plugs and turned on the water and buzz, buzz, buzz."

"What are you "

"We can't let 'em. Oh, no. No, no, no. We can't Carrie pulled all the plugs. Rhonda Simard burnt up."

Caitlin managed to pry him off of her, keeping him at arms-length. "Carrie? What did Carrie do?"

The boy didn't respond, just kept grinning up at her. At the same time, Rita Desjardin approached them. She put her hands on the boy's shoulders and ushered him away from Caitlin. "Come on, Vic. Why don't you lie down for a while?"

"Queen of the Prom," the boy, Vic, was muttering. "They dumped blood on her and Tommy."

Desjardin shook her head sadly as she watched the boy stumble toward a doctor and she turned to Caitlin. Her eyes grew wide in recognition. "Kate?"

"What happened, Rita?" Caitlin asked.

Desjardin stared at her for a second, as if she didn't understand the question. She suddenly began to sway uneasily. Caitlin caught her by the arms and lowered both of them to sitting stances. "You alright?"

Desjardin rubbed her head. "Yeah. Just a headache."

"What happened at the school?" Caitlin repeated, emphasizing each word.

"God it was awful…"

"Just start from the beginning."

"Everything was perfectly fine." She paused. "And then the Prom King and Queen were announced. Tommy Ross and Carrie White won. I swear, she was _glowing_ when she stepped onto that stage with Tommy. I don't think I've ever seen Carrie smile like that before. She looked _happy_. Truly happy."

"What happened after that?"

"The school song played. Then all at once there was a huge red splash in the air. Tommy and Carrie were drenched, but Carrie got it the worst. I thought it was paint at first, but once I started to smell that thick, coppery smell I knew it was blood."

Caitlin's eyes widened. "Blood? Someone dumped blood on them?"

Desjardin nodded. "One of the buckets fell and hit Tommy on the head. I'm pretty sure he was unconscious. That's when everyone started laughing. They were pointing and laughing and holding their stomachs. God, even _I_ was laughing. It was an awful thing and I shouldn't have, but I laughed anyway. Then Carrie hopped off the stage, and I wasn't laughing anymore. I tried to go to her, comfort her somehow. But when I got close… I swear, it was like someone shoved me into the wall, but there was nobody there."

Caitlin put a hand on her shoulder. "It's all right, Rita. What happened then?"

"Carrie left the gym. Josie Vreck was on the stage next to Tommy, yelling for someone to call a doctor. Mr. Lublin was sitting next to me and calling for a Kleenex. I had a bloody nose, you see. From hitting the wall. Then someone said: 'Carrie's back.' She was standing outside the gym, looking in through the windows on the doors. And she was _smiling._ But there was nothing friendly in that smile. The doors slammed shut, all on their own, and everyone started running and pounding on them, trying to get out. But they were locked. Those doors are… were… never locked. State law. I was trying to get people to go out the back fire doors when the sprinklers suddenly turned on. And that's when the fire started. The instruments and amps were short-circuiting, and the mural caught fire. Josie Vreck was holding onto one of the mike stands and… a-a-and he couldn't let go. That poor boy was electrocuted right there on stage."

"How did you escape?"

"I went out the fire escape with a group of students. We… We were the only ones who got out alive. And then the school exploded. Oh, dear god…"

Desjardin started to weep, and Caitlin put her arms around her shoulders. "You're alive. That's all that matters," Caitlin said softly.

Desjardin wiped her eyes. "And what about all those kids who were in the school when it blew?"

"They're in a better place now. Their suffering is over."

Desjardin released a shaky breath and buried her face in her hands, sobbing quietly.

"Rita," Caitlin said firmly, making the woman look up at her. \"What happened to Carrie White?"

"I… I don't know," Desjardin said. "I wish I could tell you more, but I didn't see her after I got out."

"Thank you. Believe me, you've helped immensely."

Caitlin stood and walked away, right out of the police station. Her eyes fixed on the flames blazing in the night. She could feel the heat of the fire even from a distance. The scene was almost surreal, like a scene from a disaster movie. But this wasn't a movie. This was real life. Carrie was out there somewhere. It was just a matter of finding her.

Caitlin glanced back when Esther approached her. "Did you learn anything?"

"No," Esther replied. "It's all the same story. People say they saw her, but that they 'just knew' it was Carrie White. Most of these people have never even met the girl."

"She's sending out telepathic energy," Caitlin stated. "I'm not sure she even realizes that she's doing it." She chuckled softly. "Many people don't know that telekinesis and telepathy go hand-in-hand. You can't have one without the other."

"Come to think of it, I _did_ feel something, right when we entered town. Like a presence in the back of my mind."

"I felt it, too. I think I might be able to find her using the same method."

Esther was quiet as Caitlin closed her eyes and touched her fingertips to her right temple. She blocked out the sounds of the burning world around her and focused all her energy into her psyche. The psychic energy was sent out in waves, pulses, like rings on a sonar. She overlooked the smaller energy signatures, moving past Esther and the people in the station. She was bombarded by the thoughts of racing, terrified minds; it was like listening to several different radio stations at once, garbled and intangible. If she concentrated harder enough, she would have been able to decipher the noise, but she had other matters of much more dire importance to worry about.

Her psychic sonar continued to scan the town, and it wasn't until it reached Carlin Street that Caitlin found the signature she was looking for. It was close to another, and she realized that Carrie must be with her mother. She could hear their thoughts as clear as spoken words.

Carrie thinking how her momma had been right but that she needed to be punished just like the rest of _them_. Margaret thinking that the devil had come home and that it was time to make her sacrifice.

In her mind's eye, Caitlin could see them facing each other with wide, hawk-like eyes. The blood on Carrie's dress starting to dry. The knife hidden in the folds of Margaret's dress. Murderous intent in their minds. One of them would die tonight.

_ Oh, God, don't let them kill each other. God Almighty, don't let them kill each other!_

Caitlin focused her mind's eye on the exterior of the house – bungalow was the word they used for it, according to Carrie's thoughts. She visualized the front door, then the porch, moved down to the sidewalk until she found the base of the mailbox. She climbed the mailbox and saw the address on the side.

An explosive breath escaped Caitlin's lips as her eyes snapped open and her mind returned from Carlin Street, like an eel darting back into its cave after venturing too far out. Her sonar was switched off, and she could no longer hear the garbled thoughts.

Esther touched Caitlin's shoulder. "Are you all right?"

Caitlin nodded, her breaths coming in shallow pants. "47 Carlin Street."

"What?"

"That's where she is."

"I'll get the car."

"I'll drive."


	3. Chapter 3

*** Chapter Three ***

* * *

_1:13 __a.m._

The presence in their minds only strengthened as Caitlin and Esther drew closer to Carlin Street. Caitlin had reached out once more to better see what was happening at the White bungalow… and immediately regretted the decision. Her mind was sucked in and knowledge was forced upon her. What she learned would haunt her: the story of Carrie's conception.

As Margaret White told it, Caitlin heard and felt it in her mind, as if relieving memories that weren't her own, seeing them through someone else's eyes. Every word echoed in the corridors of her mind.

_ "I should have killed myself when he put it in me. After the first time, before we were married, he promised. Never again. He said we just… slipped. I believed him. I fell down and I lost the baby and that was God's judgment. I felt that the sin had been expiated. By blood. But sin never dies. Sin… never… dies. At first it was all right. We lived sinlessly. We slept in the same bed, belly to belly sometimes, and oh, I could feel the presence of the Serpent, but we never did until… And that night I could see him looking at me that way. We got down on our knees to pray for strength and he… touched me. In that place. That woman place. And I sent him out of the house. He was gone for hours, and I prayed for him. I could see him in my mind's eye, walking the midnight streets, wrestling with the devil as Jacob wrestled with the Angel of the Lord. And when he came back, my heart was filled with thanksgiving. It wasn't until he came in that I smelled the whiskey on his breath. And he took me. Took me! With the stink of filthy roadhouse whiskey still on him he took me… and I liked it! I liked it! Oh, all that dirty fucking! And his hands on me, all over me!"_

Caitlin tried to disengage her mind, tried to keep the horrid darkness out, tried to stop the sharp bursts of pain stabbing at her skull, but she couldn't. It wasn't Margaret who had a firm grip on her, though. It was Carrie. She didn't even know if the girl was aware that she'd caught Caitlin's mind like a fish on a line.

Esther saw the pain flashing in Caitlin's eyes. "What are you seeing, Kate?"

Caitlin grunted and her grip on the wheel tightened, her knuckles turning white. "I'm not _seeing_ anything. Just hearing."

"What do you hear?"

"Oh god… it hurts…" Caitlin's eyes suddenly took on a new, eerily blank look. When she spoke, it didn't… it just didn't sound quite right. Her voice was too quiet, its pitch too high like the voice of a teenaged girl. "I came to kill you, Momma. And you were waiting here to kill me. Momma, I… it's not right, Momma. It's not…"

Esther felt her own heart pounding in her chest, fear rising within her.

Caitlin groaned. The car swerved sharply, but quickly realigned.

"Kate, wha ?"

Before Esther could react, Caitlin bit down on the corner of her mouth. Blood trickled from the wound, sliding down Caitlin's chin. She winced a little, then sighed. Her eyes focused on the road and the familiar fire had returned to those green orbs. "I'm fine," she said in response to the look Esther was giving her. "Just let my guard down for a minute."

"Don't do that," Esther gasped. "I thought you were possessed!"

Caitlin calmly shook her head. "No. Her mind connected with mine and her thoughts leaked in. She had a real hard grip on me, too. Thankfully a little pain always helps disengage the brain." She wiped the blood off her chin with the back of her hand. Her gaze remained on the road before them. "We're getting close."

* * *

_1:30 a.m._

"Something's not right."

"What's not right?"

Caitlin stopped the car and pointed ahead of them. "Look."

Esther looked, and she saw what Caitlin was talking about. They were parked on the corner of Branch and Carlin Street, and it was all on fire. The White bungalow was somewhere in the blaze, and it was highly unlikely that Carrie was still in there.

"I can't sense Mrs. White anymore," Caitlin said solemnly.

Esther stared at her. "What are you saying? Do you honestly think that… that Carrie could have…"

"I don't doubt it. It's definitely within her power. But there's something else. Carrie's weakening. I'm not sure why she's deteriorating, but I'm worried."

"Can you locate her?"

"I can try."

Caitlin once again reached out with her mind, turning her sonar back on, the eel venturing from its cave. There were few thoughts to interfere. Most of the people had run off or were dead. She found a trail of blood in the yard next to the White bungalow. She followed it with her mind's eye, and she began to hear new thoughts. There was no mistaking it. It was Carrie she was hearing. She heard Carrie thinking about her momma, how Momma wanted her to be the Angel's Fiery Sword, to destroy

Caitlin pulled her mind back and started the car, driving away from Carlin Street. She knew where Carrie was going now. That much was clear to her.

"Kate, where are we going?"

"The Cavalier."

"The what?"

"It's a tavern just outside of Chamberlain."

"Suddenly in the mood for a beer?"

"Your sarcasm is not appreciated. Carrie's going there."

"What? Why?"

"It may very well be where her father got drunk the night he raped her mother. She's going to destroy the place where her creation began."

* * *

_2:00 __a.m._

When Caitlin and Esther pulled into The Cavalier parking lot, the first thing they saw was the burning building. The tavern was made almost entirely of wood and was burning briskly. Caitlin parked the car a good distance from the building and climbed out. Both women could feel the heat of the fire on their skin. Caitlin noticed a car to the right of the tavern's back door, completely engulfed in flame. It appeared to have been the source of the tavern fire. She thought she could see charred remains in the vehicle, but it didn't matter. There was nothing that could be done for them now.

Caitlin saw Carrie lying in the parking lot, and she was instantly reminded of animals she'd seen crushed on numerous highways. She was on her side, curled up on the asphalt. The dress she wore was in tatters, and most of the blood on it was her own. A knife protruded from her shoulder, blood oozing out of the wound. She was lying in a small pool of blood, and some of it was trickling out of her mouth.

"Oh dear god," Caitlin breathed.

The two women moved in quickly. They knelt by Carrie, Caitlin supporting her head while Esther rolled her onto her back and began fiddling with the thick bracelet she wore around her wrist. Caitlin gently brushed a strand of hair out of Carrie's face. She could still sense telepathic energy emanating from the girl, though it was weakening rapidly. There wasn't much time left.

Caitlin watched as Esther pulled the head of a needle from a hidden compartment on the bracelet and took the base of a syringe out of her pocket. She securely attached the two and stuck the needle into her own arm, drawing an ample amount of blood. Esther quickly but carefully removed the knife from Carrie's shoulder, found a vein, and stabbed her in the arm with the needle, injecting the girl with her blood.

The effects were quick. The wound on Carrie's shoulder stopped bleeding and healed over, as if it had never been there to begin with. Esther had two fingers pressed gently against Carrie's jugular. "Pulse is returning to normal," she reported.

"Good," Caitlin said. "Let's get her out of here."

Esther effortlessly scooped Carrie up in her arms and opened one of the back doors of the car, laying the unconscious teenager in the backseat.

Caitlin went to the driver's side door, pausing for a moment to take in the fiery devastation around her. _And to think, this could have potentially been avoided,_ she thought to herself. _Still, the amount of raw power displayed here is… incredible. You truly have the gift, Carrie White. Now let's just hope you can master it._


	4. Chapter 4

*** Chapter Four ***

* * *

_Carmel, Indiana. June 3, 2013._

When Carrie regained consciousness, the first thing she was aware of was a radio somewhere playing a Bob Dylan song:

_ I wish I could write you_

_ A melody so plain_

_ That would save you, dear lady,_

_ From going insane_

_ That would ease you and cool you_

_ And cease the pain_

_ Of your useless and pointless knowledge_

_ I like that song,_ was the first thought that popped into her head. She kept her eyes shut though. Images of fire and electricity and destruction danced in her mind, with flashes of a poor girl in a bloody prom dress. It was only when the girl's face was revealed that Carrie realized _she_ was the girl.

The memories of what happened on prom night came rushing back as if a mental dam had broken. The one thing she remembered vividly was her momma, her momma waiting at home to kill her.

_Momma, I'm sorry. It all went wrong. Oh, Momma._

She kept her eyes shut and prayed very hard that it had all just been a bad dream. That she would wake up and be in her own room with her pictures of Jesus and lambs. That she would go downstairs and see Momma getting ready for work. See the plaster plaques in the living room (christ, the unseen guest; what would jesus do; the hour draweth nigh; if tonight became judgment, would you be ready) on her way out the door as she headed off for school.

_Oh, please. Oh, please. I want to be home._

Slowly, she opened one eye, then the other. But it was not her room that she saw; she wasn't in the bungalow at all. She was laying in a bed that was pressed against a wall, with a warm blanket drawn over her, and her head propped up by fluffy pillows. The room she was in had white walls, and white tiles made up the floor. She could see strange equipment set up nearby, like the kind she'd seen on a medical show. Some of the other equipment looked like it belonged in a scientist's lab. There were tanks and aquariums filled with odd reptiles, fish, amphibians, and insects that Carrie had never seen before. A radio on a desk was playing "Tombstone Blues."

Carrie sat up and noticed immediately that she wasn't wearing her prom dress; she now wore a simple long-sleeved white shirt and loose gray sweatpants. No shoes, though. She saw a pair of tennis shoes at the edge of the bed. There was no more foul blood on her skin or in her hair. The knife wasn't in her shoulder either. She looked under the shirt, but she couldn't find any mark to indicate that she'd been stabbed.

_H-H-How…?_

She swung her legs over the edge of the bed, then pulled them back up when her toes touched the cold floor. She tried again, and this time she stood up, looking around the room at all the strange machines.

_Where… am I?_

She suddenly heard footsteps approaching her. She looked just as they rounded the corner, and she froze as she felt the color drain from her cheeks. The man (thing?) that had come in had to be the most frightening thing she'd ever seen. He towered over her at nearly seven feet tall, and he was covered head to toe in dark green scales. His body was slender and muscular, with broad shoulders and a muscled chest emphasized by the white shit he was wearing. His muzzle protruded a few inches from his reptilian face, making him look like a lizard of sorts. He had five fingers on each hand, including a thumb, and each finger had a claw to match. The feet were like that of a lizard, with a little webbing between the toes, making shoes an obviously unnecessary article of clothing. A scaly tail swung out behind him; a hole cut in the back of his dark-colored pants let it move without hindrance. A frill crowned the top of his head, made of spikes and membranes that formed a kind of Mohawk. He was holding what looked like a manila folder.

The lizard-man looked up from the file he was reading, and his yellow eyes met Carrie's dark ones. For a moment they just stared at each other, neither one making any sort of movement. Then he gave her an odd, toothy smile, and she could see just how sharp his teeth were. "Hello there," he said. His voice was deep, a bit gravelly. "Good to see that you're awake."

Carrie's reply was an ear-piercing shriek, and she scrambled back onto the bed, pressing herself against the wall.

The lizard-man didn't seem too bothered by her reaction. He set the folder on a desk, clicked the radio off, and slowly approached her, speaking in a tone one would use to calm a frightened child. "It's alright, Carrie. You don't have to be afraid."

"How do you know my name?" the girl demanded.

A glass vial on one of the metal tables exploded in a shower of shards.

The lizard-man groaned, irritated. "I'd appreciate it if you didn't destroy my lab, young lady," he said firmly. "And I know your name because I read your file."

"My… My file?"

"Of course. Every resident of Sinclair Manor has a file detailing their physical information, background, and powers."

"Sinclair Manor?"

The lizard-man studied her face for a moment. Then he chuckled gently. "Please, forgive my rudeness. My name is Samuel Lee. You can just call me Sam, if you so desire. And you're Carietta White, correct?"

"It's… It's Carrie."

"Good to meet you, Carrie. Welcome to Sinclair Manor."

A door opened and closed somewhere close by, and this time a woman entered the room. She was so pretty, at least in Carrie's opinion. Her eyes were a beautiful shade of green that almost seemed to sparkle. Her hair was chocolate brown, naturally curly, allowed to fall freely over her shoulders. She was tall, with a slender build. She wore a simple black blazer and skirt, with an open white blouse. Both of her ears were decorated with multiple rings of various sizes (all silver), and a pendant depicting the archangel Michael hung around her neck.

The lady gave Samuel a stern look. "Sam, what _are_ you doing?"

"Just checking in on Miss White," Samuel replied innocently.

"The poor girl's been through enough. The last thing I need if you scaring her to death."

"You don't have to worry about that, Kate. No harm done."

The woman nodded and turned to Carrie, a smile on her pink lips. "Hello, Carrie. How are you feeling?"

"Who are you?" the girl asked.

The woman moved away from Samuel and sat down next to Carrie on the bed. "My name is Caitlin Sinclair. I see you've already met Sam."

Samuel nodded, clicked the stereo back on, and took a seat at the desk.

Carrie forced herself to look away from the odd lizard-man and looked up into Caitlin's emerald eyes. "Where… Where am I?"

"You're in my home," Caitlin replied. "In Carmel, Indiana. Do you remember what happened on the night of the 27th and the morning of the 28th of May?"

"I… I…" Her hands flew to her temples as a sudden wave of pain rushed through her and she moaned. "Ohhh… my head… it hurts…"

"That's understandable," Caitlin said with the professional tone of a doctor. "You outdid yourself when you destroyed Chamberlain, plus you almost died. If Esther and I hadn't arrived when we did, you wouldn't be here right now."

Carrie stared at her with horrified eyes. "I… I did what?"

Caitlin whistled at Sam. He pulled a folder off the stack in front of him and tossed it to her in response. She opened the folder and handed it to Carrie, who took it with shaking hands. The folder contained copies of AP reports from Chamberlain, time-stamped 10:46 pm, 11:22 pm, and 11:46 pm. They all talked about fires and explosions, starting at Ewen High School and spreading to the rest of the town. There were photos of the entire town of Chamberlain burning, as if God had rained down fire just like Sodom and Gomorrah. Newspaper clippings further explained the event.

Carrie scanned the documents with growing fear and shock. _I did this?_ I _did this?_

"Yes, you did," Caitlin replied suddenly, making Carrie jump.

"You… You can read my mind?"

"You can do the same, Carrie. Your TK and TP abilities are exceptionally powerful. That's _telekinesis_ and _telepathy_, just so you know. Don't tell me you've forgotten your own power."

Carrie dug deep into her memories and found what Caitlin was talking about, but it also released memories of humiliation and torment. She remembered the rain of blood that showered her and Tommy on stage. She remembered running out of the gym when they all started laughing. It all came back to her in an instant: holding the gym doors shut, turning on the sprinklers, the funny electrical dance some of her peers did, the mural catching fire…

She moaned again and held her head.

"It's like finding out you had a past life," Caitlin mused. "All those memories returning to you in a torrent, knocking you off your feet. I know what it's like. I went through the same thing you did when I was younger. The temporary memory loss is a side effect of long-lasting exertions of TK or TP energy."

"Kate, I don't think she's particularly interested in that right now," Samuel stated without looking up from the folder he'd opened.

"Where's my momma?" Carrie murmured softly.

"What was that?" Caitlin asked.

"Where's my momma? I want my momma."

Caitlin and Samuel exchanged grave looks. Carrie thought they might be communicating using… using… what did she call it? Tele Telepathy? Yes, that sounded right."

She listened closely. Not with her ears, but with her mind. The voices were soft and the words distorted at first, but the more she concentrated, the clearer they became.

_You didn't tell her?_ Caitlin was asking.

_No. I thought it would be best to wait until she recovered a bit,_ Samuel replied.

_All right. I'll tell her. Carrie, stop eavesdropping._

Carrie was a bit startled when Caitlin addressed her, even more so when Caitlin's eyes slid over to meet hers. "If you want to listen in on a telepathic conversation," she stated. "you'll have to learn how to mask your presence."

"What's wrong?" Carrie asked. "Where's my momma?"

Caitlin sighed. "She's dead, Carrie."

Carrie's eyes grew wide and her lip began to quiver. "Wha What? How?"

"You don't remember?"

The girl shook her head.

"_You_ killed her."

"_What?!_"

"Don't ask me how you did it. I wasn't there."

Carrie suddenly let loose a doleful cry and covered her face with her hands, the folder and its contents falling to the ground. Caitlin almost automatically put her arms around her, holding her close. Carrie continued to weep softly, her tears wetting Caitlin's jacket, as Caitlin gently shushed her and stroked her hair.

"Shh, shh. It's all right, Carrie. It's okay."

"I killed my momma…" Carrie said between sobs. "I want my momma!"

Caitlin sighed quietly while Carrie rested her head on Caitlin's collarbone and cried.

Samuel had looked up from his reading and gave them both a sympathetic look. "Kate?"

"I'll handle this, Sam," Caitlin replied.

Her gaze returned to the sobbing girl in her arms. One of Caitlin's own memories flashed before her eyes, a very vivid image in a whole series of images she'd suppressed for over eleven years: a young teenager all alone in the manor. Her parents weren't home, and she was sitting against the wall with her knees drawn up to her chest. Tears flowed from her green eyes and loud sobs escaped her lips. _I'm sorry,_ she was murmuring. _I'm so sorry. Can You hear me, God? Are You listening? I'm sorry, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to do it. I didn't… I didn't mean to…_

Caitlin closed her eyes and released a breath, preventing the memory from advancing any further.

Carrie's sobs had quieted a bit, and Caitlin patted her back comfortingly. "I'm not going to lie to you," she said. "It's probably for the best that your momma's gone."

Carrie sat up and wiped her eyes. "W-What do you mean?"

"I know what kind of a woman she was. I know she hurt you."

Carrie said nothing.

"But now that you're here," Caitlin said, "you don't have to worry about her anymore. No one here is going to hurt you."

"W-Why?"

"Why what, honey?"

"Why did you save me? Why didn't you just leave me to die?"

Caitlin sighed. "Because you never had a chance to _live_. Your whole life you've been living under your momma's self-righteous knife, afraid that if you tried to oppose her in any way it would fall." She smiled and put an arm around Carrie's shoulders. "You're special, Carrie. You deserve a chance at life, just like everyone else."

Caitlin picked up the folder off the floor and pulled out a document to show Carrie. The girl's dark eyes widened when she saw it was a Report of Decease from Westover Mercy Hospital. The name of the decedent was her own name, and the time of death was May 28, 1979.

"What's this?" Carrie gasped.

"Your ticket to a new life," Caitlin replied. "I had to pull a lot of strings to have that made and legalized. How's it feel to be dead?"

"I… I don't know."

"You can start over now, Carrie. Live the life _you_ want to live. That's where I come in. I help people like us fulfill their dreams."

"People like us?"

Caitlin looked pointedly at Samuel, and Carrie followed her gaze. The chair he was sitting in suddenly rose into the air with him still in it. Samuel appeared startled for a moment, almost dropping the folder he was reading from. He hung on to the sides of the chair and looked down at Caitlin.

"Couldn't you have moved something else?" he asked. "There's no need to show off for her."

"Just keeping you on your toes, Sam," Caitlin laughed. "You're quite heavy, by the way."

"I'll try to take that as some sort of compliment," Samuel said as the chair returned to the ground.

Carrie was staring at Caitlin with huge eyes. "You… You have the power too?"

Caitlin nodded. "Yes. It's called telekinesis, or TK, just in case you weren't listening when I said that earlier. Why don't you show me what you can do, Carrie? Move something in this room. Just don't overdo it."

Carrie looked around the room. She focused on a table near some medial equipment and tried to lift it. A stab of pain struck her as if someone had hit her over the head with a baseball bat.

Two legs of the table lifted off the ground. Caitlin and Samuel watched it closely as Carrie grunted and held her head.

_Too heavy. Oh, that's too heavy. It hurts. It hurts._

The table came down with a crash that echoed throughout the room. Carrie just stared at it in disbelief. "But… But I lifted my bed once. With _me_ on it! Why… Why can't I…?"

Caitlin gave her an encouraging smile. "Try something smaller."

Carrie nodded slowly and looked at a glass vial sitting next to the one she'd broken earlier. It was much easier to lift. The pain wasn't as bad, but it still hurt a little bit. She set it down gently and looked expectantly at Caitlin.

"Just as I thought," the woman said. "You don't have to worry about your power. It will come back. You've just overworked your mind. It's like when you pull a muscle from overexerting yourself during exercise. You understand what I mean?"

"So I pulled my… my…" She groped for a word. "…my brain muscle?"

Caitlin laughed, a silvery sound that echoed just as much as the table crashing to the floor. "I suppose that's one way to put it. Just don't use your power too much and you'll be fine. Rest is the best thing for you."

Carrie was quiet for a moment. "What is this place?" she asked, her eyes wandering around the room. "Why did you bring me here?"

Caitlin leaned back on her palms and smiled warmly. "I inherited this manor after my parents died. Ever since then I've dedicated my life to protecting individuals with special powers the Freaks. I offer sanctuary from the world and the Normals."

"Normals?"

"People without powers. Most of the Normals hate us Freaks just because we're different."

"Like my momma…" Carrie murmured so softly that Caitlin barely heard.

"What was that?"

"Momma said I had the Devil's Power."

"Well, she was wrong."

"She was?"

"Telekinesis is a matter of genetics, not the occult. It's a mutation, to put it bluntly. I'm sure Sam here would be happy to explain it to you sometime."

"You need only ask," Samuel said with a smile.

Caitlin stood and looked down at Carrie. "But for now, I think it's time I showed you the rest of the manor and your room."

Carrie blinked at her. "My room?"

"Well, of course. Did you think I would make you sleep down here in Sam's lab?"

It was Carrie's turn to smile. She quickly put on the tennis shoes (the material felt unfamiliar to her since Momma never let her buy clothes other girls her age wore) and followed Caitlin out of the room. They went up some stairs to a closed door, which Caitlin opened. The new room they'd entered looked like a living room, but much bigger. The word "parlor" popped into Carrie's mind, like in an old Victorian manor house. The parlor of Sinclair Manor was large and richly decorated, containing plush couches and elegant end tables. An expensive-looking TV was set up on one wall. Spread out on the floor was a lovely woven rug. Paintings depicting classic fairy tales and fantasy scenes hung on the walls. A crystal chandelier dangled from the ceiling.

"It's so pretty," Carrie said, awe-struck.

"Thank you," Caitlin replied. "Walter does such a good job keeping the place spotless."

"Who's Walter?"

"My butler. He's lived with my family ever since I was a little girl."

"You have a butler?"

"Oh, yes. He's the sweetest man you'll ever meet. He should be around here somewhere."

Carrie heard a soft clicking sound and looked in the direction of the noise, just in time to see a mass of brown and white fur rounding the corner into the parlor. For a moment she was sure she was looking at a small bear, but when it got closer, she saw its dark, sad eyes and realized it was a Saint Bernard.

The dog trotted right up to Caitlin, its big bushy tail wagging back and forth and its pink tongue lolling out of its mouth; the top of its back reached Caitlin's waist. Carrie had instinctively ducked behind her, putting the woman between her and the dog. Caitlin put a hand on the dog's head and ruffled its fur. "It's okay. King is very friendly," she assured Carrie. "He won't bite."

"He's huge!" Carrie gasped. "That's the biggest dog I've ever seen!"

King looked past Caitlin at Carrie but made no attempt to move toward her. He simply stood with his head tilted to the side, his tail still wagging slowly. Caitlin stepped to the right, and Carrie continued to stare at King. Slowly she extended a hand. King inched forward and sniffed her palm before ducking his head under her hand as if asking for her to pet him. Carrie hesitantly put her hand on his head, but relaxed a bit and began to scratch behind his ear.

Caitlin smiled. "See? He doesn't bite."

Carrie continued rubbing King's head and neck while the dog sat down in front of her and leaned into her touch. She glanced up and noticed that Caitlin wasn't looking at her. She sensed that Caitlin was saying something telepathically, but decided against trying to listen in. No sooner had Caitlin sent out her psychic message when a man entered the room from one of the hallways. He was a tall man with short, graying black hair and blue eyes that almost seemed to sparkle. He had a pale complexion and appeared to be in excellent physical condition despite his obvious advanced age. He wore the black suit typical of butlers, and he had a very warm and disarming smile.

"You called, ma'am?" he asked, looking at Caitlin.

Caitlin touched Carrie's shoulder. "Walter, this is Carietta White. I believe I told you about her."

Walter looked down at Carrie, and she smiled shyly. He extended a hand to her, which she took. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Miss White. It's been a long time since we had another telekinetic walking these halls."

"Now that we've all been introduced," Caitlin said. "Walter, do you think you could show Carrie to her room? Those stuffed shirts on the State Investigatory Board want me to fly out to Chamberlain as soon as possible to attend those testimonies, and I really should start preparing for that."

"Of course, ma'am. Should I start preparing dinner as well?"

"That would be lovely."

"I'll get right to it."

"Walter, have I ever told you how invaluable you are?"

"Many times, ma'am."

Caitlin turned to Carrie. "I have things I need to tend to. Just go with Walter and you'll be fine."

Carrie nodded. "Okay."

With that, Caitlin spun on her heels and started off down a different hallway, King following close behind her. Walter motioned in the direction he'd just come from. "Follow me, Miss White."

Carrie obeyed, walking behind Walter as he took her down a hallway. They passed by what looked like an elegant dining room. Carrie was going to ask about it, but thought Walter might get annoyed by her asking too many questions.

As they ascended a staircase, Carrie finally had to break the silence. "Walter?"

"Yes, Miss White?"

"Carrie," she corrected quietly. "Why do you stay here?"

"I beg your pardon?"

"I thought… I thought, um, Normals didn't like Freaks…"

Walter smiled and chuckled. "Well, my dear. I'm not at all Normal."

Carrie's eyes widened a little. "You aren't?"

"No. Only the Sinclair family and my own family are aware of my abilities."

They'd reached the top of the stairs and turned down another hallway.

"What… What can you do?" Carrie asked.

"To put it simply, I can control the minds of living organisms," Walter replied. "It's a bit like puppetry, actually."

"Wow. I wish I could do that…"

"Child, you have an amazing gift of your own. With time and practice, I'm sure you'll become as talented as Caitlin."

Carrie felt her cheeks flush a little. "I… I don't know about that…"

They came to a door close to the middle of the hallway. Carrie noticed other doors on the same side of the hall and on the opposite side. Walter opened the door and held it open for her. Carrie stepped inside, and her eyes grew wide again. It was a simple room with bare blue walls and cream-colored carpet. It was much bigger than her room back at the bungalow and had a window that let her see the colorful garden and hedge maze in the backyard. The walk-in closet was empty, with vacant hangers waiting to be used. The polished wooden dresser was also empty, as was the bedside table. The bed was a queen-size and had, not one, but two fluffy pillows on it. There was a wooden desk with a table lamp and a stack of books that looked fairly new.

"This is your room, Miss White," Walter said. "I do hope you find it to your liking. If you need anything, just come find me. Or you can do what Caitlin does and call for me telepathically."

"Thank you," Carrie replied. "I'm fine for now."

Walter nodded and left, closing the door behind him.

Carrie wandered over to the desk and read the spines of the books stacked on top of it: _Black Beauty_, _A Midsummer Night's Dream_, _Treasure Island_, _The Hounds of the Baskervilles_, _Of Mice and Men_, and _Beautiful Joe_. There was another book sitting off to the side titled _Ogilvie's Dictionary of Psychic Phenomena_.

A note was taped to the cover of the lone book:

"Carrie, I'm fairly certain that you'll find the other books I picked up for you much more interesting and enjoyable than this one, but should you wish to learn a bit more about telekinesis and telepathy, this is a good place to start. Try not to have too much fun. - Caitlin"

Carrie smiled to herself. It felt odd to have someone write a note to her. No one had done that before. Well… not to say anything nice, anyway. Most of the notes she got from people were ones meant to trick her or something like that.

She returned to the stack of books and picked up the one sitting on top (_Black Beauty_). She examined the cover as she sat down on the bed.

'_An autobiography of a horse'? That sounds funny._

Still, her interest was piqued. She rolled onto her stomach, opened the book and laid it in front of her. Her worries and fears about this strange, new place faded as images of velvet-coat horses and green meadows danced in her mind.

"_The first place I can well remember was a large pleasant meadow with a pond of clear water in it. Some shady trees leaned over it, and rushes and water lillies grew at the deep end. Over the hedge on one side we looked into a plowed field, and on the other we looked over a gate at our master's house, which stood by the roadside…"_


	5. Chapter 5

**Note:** The conversation between the Chairman and Sue Snell is taken from the original _Carrie_ novel.

* * *

* **Chapter Five ***

* * *

Caitlin was completely confident that Carrie was in good hands when she left for the Indianapolis International Airport later that afternoon. But if she had her own way, she wouldn't even be attending these testimonies.

The governor of Maine had appointed a blue-ribbon committee to "study the Chamberlain incident." This committee was called the "White Commission," and all of them had been recruited to assist in "proving" that there was nothing paranormal about what occurred in Chamberlain on May 27th and May 28th. Of course, with so many witnesses to the events, that might prove to be a difficult task.

The State of Maine just wanted the whole thing to be swept under the rug and forgotten. Water under the bridge. Faking Carrie's death had been the easy part; Caitlin was used to pulling a lot of strings in situations like this. Now people just had to remain blissfully ignorant about the existence of Freaks.

The buzzing chatter of the other passengers in the seats around her finally got to Caitlin. She pulled out a copy of _The Dream-Quest of Unknown Kadath_ out of her bag and started reading to ease her mind. She wasn't even reading the book. Not really. Looking at the words just helped block out the voices around her and let her think more clearly.

She was well aware that numerous eyewitnesses would be called in to give their testimonies before the White Commission, and she knew that each and every one of those eyewitnesses would state exactly what they saw. Obviously the Commission would do everything in their power to debunk their stories. That didn't matter too much. A few whispers of government cover-up kept the American people entertained and out of Caitlin's hair. Considering all the fuss that was made over things like Area 51 and the Patterson-Gimlin film, she wouldn't have been surprised if the disaster in Chamberlain (dubbed "Prom Night" by the popular press) gained its own cult following. The fanatics were the state's problem, not hers.

Almost as soon as the plane landed at Portland International Jetport and Caitlin stepped off, she was flagged down in the terminal by Fred Brown, one of the many member of the White Commission that Caitlin had wrapped around her finger.

"Where have you been?" Brown asked in a frazzled tone.

Caitlin adjusted her sunglasses and strode out of the jetport with the man by her side. "Traffic was murder," she joked.

A car was waiting for them outside, and Brown was fairly quiet during the drive from Portland to Chamberlain. But once they pulled up to Chamberlain Town Hall (which hadn't been too severely damaged by the fires), he couldn't keep silent any longer.

"Kate, why do you insist on being late to these kind of things?"

"First of all, I'm never late. I'm _fashionably_ late. There _is_ a difference, you know."

"Well, don't you think you could have made an exception just this once?"

"And why would I do that?"

"409 people are dead, Kate. And at least forty-nine are still missing."

"So?"

Brown looked flabbergasted. "_So_? So, this is the biggest thing to happen in the United States since the Kennedy assassination!"

"I'm well aware of that, Fred."

"Then how can you be so nonchalant about it?"

"Because I'd much rather be at home taking care of my kids than here watching men like you deal with all the disaster and cover-up crap."

"Do you not care that people are dead?"

"People die every day. Some suffer fates worse than death. I have a girl back at the manor who was experimented on by her country's government. Now she can suck the very life out of people just by _touching_ them." She poked Brown in the shoulder, making him jump. "She's my own little Rogue. Thank God she can control that power of hers, though."

They reached the conference room where the testimonies were being taken and Caitlin removed her sunglasses outside the door. She gave Brown a smile. "My priorities are just a bit different than yours. So, you deal with your business, and I'll deal with mine. And you really need to relax, Fred. You're quite jumpy."

Brown opened his mouth to say something, but Caitlin cut him off before he could get a single word out. "So how much of the testimonies did I miss?"

"The Commission has finished reviewing Mrs. Simard's testimony," Brown replied, giving up his attempt to argue with Caitlin. "They're talking with Miss Snell now."

"Lovely."

Before the man could say anything else, Caitlin quietly opened one of the doors and slipped into the room. No one seemed to notice when she entered. The members of the White Commission were seated at a long table at the other end of the room, and the Chairman, Mr. John Goldmann, sat in the middle of the table. The gallery was made up of citizens of Chamberlain. Seated on a wooden chair, was a teenage girl about Carrie's age – Susan Snell, Caitlin assumed. Susan was a young thing with long blond hair and blue eyes, tall and pretty, all leg. She was the only one who looked up when Caitlin came in, and her eyes followed her as she took her seat in the gallery.

"Now, Miss Snell," Goldmann was saying, "the Board would like to go through your testimony concerning your alleged meeting with Carrie White in The Cavalier parking lot–"

"Why do you keep asking the same questions over and over?" Sue snapped. "I've told you twice already."

"We want to make sure the record is correct in every–"

"You want to catch me in a lie, isn't that what you really mean? You don't think I'm telling the truth, do you?"

Goldmann seemed to ignore the question. "You say you came upon Carrie at–"

"Will you answer me?"

"–at approximately 2:00 on the morning of May 28th. Is that correct?"

Sue leaned back in her chair and folded her arms over her chest. "I'm not going to answer any more questions until you answer the one I just asked."

Goldmann stared at the girl long and hard. "Miss Snell, this body is empowered to cite you for contempt if you refuse to answer on any other grounds than Constitutional ones."

"I don't care what you're empowered to do. I've lost someone I love. Go and throw me in jail. I don't care." Sue looked ready to completely break down. "I… I… Oh, go to hell. All of you, go to hell. You're trying to… to… I don't know, _crucify_ me or something. Just lay off me!"

Caitlin could see just how upset Sue was getting. _Give her a moment, John,_ she said telepathically to Goldmann. _Let the girl get ahold of herself._

Goldmann only briefly glanced back at her out of the corner of his eye.

Sue took a few deep breaths and straightened in her chair before looking back at Goldmann. That defiant fire had returned to her eyes.

"Miss Snell, are you willing to continue your testimony at this time?" Goldmann asked.

Sue nodded. "Yes. But I won't be badgered, Mr. Chairman."

"Of course not, young lady. No one wants to badger you. Now you claim to have come upon Carrie in the parking lot of this tavern at about 2:00. Is that correct?"

"Yes."

"You knew the time."

"I was wearing the watch you see on my wrist right now." Sue lifted her arm to prove her point.

"To be sure. Isn't The Cavalier better than six miles from where you left your mother's car?"

"It is by road. It's closer to three as the crow flies."

"You walked this distance?"

"Yes."

"Now you testified earlier that you "knew" you were getting close to Carrie. Can you explain this?"

"No."

"Could you smell her?"

Sue raised an eyebrow. "What?"

"Did you follow your nose?"

A few people in the gallery laughed. Caitlin merely rolled her eyes and shook her head.

"Are you playing games with me?"

Caitlin spoke telepathically to the Chairman: _You really are an ass, Goldmann. You know that, don't you?_

Goldmann ignored Caitlin's comment. "Answer the question, please."

"No. I didn't follow my nose."

"Could you see her?"

"No."

"Hear her?"

"No."

"Then how could you possibly know she was there?"

"How did Tom Quillan know?" Sue asked. "Or Cora Simard? Or poor Vic Mooney? How did any of them know?"

"Answer the question, miss," Goldmann said. "This is hardly the place or the time for impertinence."

Sue scoffed. "But they say they "just knew," didn't they? I read Mrs. Simard's testimony in the paper! And what about the fire hydrants that opened themselves? And the gas pumps that broke their own locks and turned themselves on? The power lines that climbed down off their poles! And–"

Goldmann tried to cut her off: "Miss Snell, please–"

"Those things are in the record of this Commission's proceedings!" Sue exclaimed.

"That is not an issue here."

"Then what _is_? Are you looking for the truth or just a scapegoat?"

"You deny you had any prior knowledge of Carrie White's whereabouts?"

"Of course I do. It's an absurd idea."

"Oh? And why is it absurd?"

"Well, if you're suggesting some kind of conspiracy, it's absurd because Carrie was dying when I found her. It could not have been an easy way to die."

_It most certainly wouldn't have been,_ Caitlin mused. _Esther and I were lucky to find her when we did._

"If you had no prior knowledge of her whereabouts, how could you go directly to her location?"

"Oh, you stupid man! Have you listened to anything that's been said here? Everybody knew it was Carrie! Anyone could have found her if they had put their minds to it."

"But not just anyone found her. You did. Can you tell us why people did not show up from all over, like iron fillings drawn to a magnet?"

"She was weakening rapidly. I think that perhaps the… the zone of her influence was shrinking."

"I think you will agree that that is a relatively uninformed supposition."

"Of course it is." Sue sighed. "On the subject of Carrie White, we're all relatively uninformed."

"Have it your way, Miss Snell. Now if we could turn to…"

* * *

It wasn't until the testimonies were over and the rest of the White Commission left that Caitlin stepped down from her seat in the gallery and approached John Goldmann. He was standing by the window, lighting the Camel he'd pulled from the pack in his coat pocket.

"Well that was fun," Caitlin said with an amused smile.

Goldmann's eyes remained stern and grave. "You don't seem too bothered by everything that's happened."

She shrugged. "Why would I be? The fires are extinguished, Carrie's safe, and Chamberlain can rebuild."

He offered her a cigarette, and she politely declined. She hated the smell of cigarettes (smoke in general, actually), but she didn't tell him that.

Caitlin's gaze wandered to the window, looking thoughtfully at something in the distance. "I don't envy you, John."

Goldmann exhaled a cloud of smoke – away from Caitlin, much to her relief. "Oh? And why's that?"

"You're the one who has to cover all this up and make sure the American public remains blissfully ignorant."

"It's going to be difficult to cover up something this big."

"If the State Investigatory Board of South Carolina could cover up Samuel's existence, you can cover up this whole affair."

"The destruction of a town is a bit different than a seven-foot lizard man, Kate."

"I'm well aware of that, but hopefully you see my point. I'm sure you know as well as I do just how important it is to keep this thing under wraps."

"I don't know. Seems like it'd be a lot easier to just let the world find out about you people," Goldmann mused. "Sure, there'd be an increase in hate crimes and maybe even an attempt at military use or full-blown genocide, but at least people would know what's out there."

"The cons outweigh the pros," Caitlin replied. "So it's better to tell a pleasant lie than a harsh truth."

"You may have a point." He took another long drag on his cigarette. "So what do you plan to do with the White girl? The whole world believes she died when The Cavalier went up in flames."

"I'll keep her out of your hair, if that's what you're asking."

"You ought to lock that crazy broad up," he muttered.

A spark of anger flashed in Caitlin's eyes. "Excuse me?"

"That way she can't hurt anyone if she snaps again."

"Would you feel that way if we were talking about _me_?"

Goldmann shook his head. "Of course not."

Caitlin raised an eyebrow. "Oh, really? What's the difference?"

"You actually know how to use that wild power of yours."

"I used to be just like Carrie," she snapped. "I was a kid once too. I've done things that I'm not proud of."

"I'm sure _you_ never did anything extreme."

"You'd be surprised."

"Did you destroy a town?"

"No."

"Did you cause thousands of dollars in property damage?"

"No."

"Did you kill anyone?"

"I'm not going to sit here and play Twenty Questions with you, Goldmann," Caitlin hissed. The venom in her voice was unmistakable. She took a few deep breaths, and her friendly demeanor returned. "Carrie will be well taken care of. I'll teach her how to use her powers. I can promise you that much."

"One more question, Kate."

She sighed impatiently. "What?"

"You attending the memorial service at the church? Y'know, for all the kids that died when the school blew up."

Caitlin's expression changed abruptly from irritation to pensiveness. She hadn't given it too much thought. Sure, she received an invitation in the mail, along with the letter summoning her to the testimonies, but she really hadn't thought about it.

"Perhaps," she replied.

"You should go," Goldmann suggested.

"What makes you say that?"

"I don't know, so you can pay your respects or something. Maybe show the people of Chamberlain that you actually give a damn about what happened here."

"When you phrase it like that, it makes me sound like a cynical bitch."

"Well, you–"

"If you value your life, you won't finish that sentence."


	6. Chapter 6

Thank you for the reviews, I greatly appreciate them_. _:)_  
_

* * *

*** Chapter Six *  
**

* * *

Carrie was greatly enjoying the quiet. It had been a while since she could just sit down and read a book other than the Bible. Now, horses galloped through her mind instead of the hellfire and brimstone images that Mama always filled her head with, and she felt completely at ease. She was laying on her bed, propped up on one arm with _Black Beauty_ open in front of her.

_"I was beginning t__o grow handsome; my coat had grown fine and soft and was bright black. I had one white foot, and a pretty white star on my forehead. I was thought very handsome; my master would not sell me till I was four years old; he said lad ought not to work like men, and colts ought not to work like horses till they were quite grown up…"_

A door opening jolted Carrie from her thoughts, followed by the sounds of footsteps and voices. They sounded like they were coming from the parlor, like someone had come in those big double-doors Carrie had seen while she was downstairs. She closed the book and listened for a moment, then went to the door and opened it. She ventured down the hallway, past the closed doors, to the head of the staircase she and Walter had ascended.

Four figures were coming down the hall, moving toward the staircase, laughing and talking amongst themselves. As they came closer, Carrie could see that there were two boys and two girls. They looked like they were around the same age she was. She stayed very quiet as the group came ever closer.

It wasn't until the group reached the foot of the stairs that one of the girls, the blond one, looked up and saw Carrie. She immediately stopped walking. Her eyes locked with Carrie's and they just stared at each other.

"What's wrong, Nikki?" one of the boys asked.

The other three followed her gaze and looked up at Carrie. Nobody moved for a moment. Carrie tried to swallow the lump that had formed in her throat, but only got rid of part of it. She was sure these people would become her new tormentors. And why wouldn't they? Everywhere she went the kids teased and pranked and snickered. Why should these people by any different from the rest of _them_?

Carrie was surprised when the blond girl smiled at her. It was a warm, welcoming smile. Like Caitlin's, but not quite.

"Well, hi, there," the girl said cheerily.

The other three began smiling as well, and they followed the blond girl up the stairs. Carrie instinctively backed away. The girl approaching her looked like she'd walked right off a page of _Seventeen_ magazine: her long bleached-blond hair was pulled back in a high ponytail, her eyes were big and brown like a puppy's eyes, her skin was flawless, and she had the body of a model; a purple halter top and denim shorts showed off this body. Each ear was pierced with a pair of diamond earrings, and several multicolored charm necklaces hung around her neck. There was confidence in her stride, and she held her head high.

"I haven't seen you around here before," the blond girl said. "You new?"

One of the boys, the fair-haired one who spoke earlier, tapped the girl on the shoulder. "Miss Sinclair said there was going to be a new arrival." He had short and spiky blond hair, and his eyes were blue. He was slim with some muscle tone, like he was involved in some kind of sport. He was wearing a Rob Zombie t-shirt and regular blue jeans. His skin was tanned, as if he'd been out in the sun for a while, and he had a bright and friendly smile.

The second girl kept her eyes on Carrie. Her Chinese heritage was plain to see: narrow dark eyes, thin but lovely lips, and features that captured a truly exotic beauty. She was quite thin. Her black hair was perfectly straight, reaching past the middle of her back. She wore a simple blue shirt and blue jeans. Her ears were pierced with small silver studs and her hands and forearms were covered by black gloves.

"Nice to see a new face around here," the blond girl said. "I'm Nicole." She jabbed her thumb over her shoulder at the blond boy behind her. "This dork's Jason."

"Jace," the boy corrected. "Nice to meet ya."

The Chinese girl offered a hand to Carrie, giving her a friendly smile. "My name is Lin. And you are?"

"C-Carrie," Carrie murmured while shaking Lin's hand.

"That's a pretty name," Nicole said fondly.

Carrie looked at the other boy, the one who had yet to speak, and she couldn't take her eyes off of him. He had shoulder-length black hair with long bangs that hung over bright blue eyes. There were two streaks of silver in his hair that framed his face. He had a medium build, not too bulky and not too skinny, and was very handsome. He wore dark-colored pants and a black jacket that was open to show off the _Walking Dead_ t-shirt underneath it. Carrie was mesmerized by his eyes, but forced herself to avert her gaze when she realized she was staring.

"Well, don't just stand there, Danny," Nicole said to the dark-haired boy. "Introduce yourself."

The boy smiled at Carrie and she felt a small tingle go up her spine. The feeling was strange and alien. Kind of like the feeling she got when Tommy asked her to prom. _No, no, no. Don't think about that. Don't think about that._

"I'm Daniel," the boy said. "Nice to meet you, Carrie."

_He said my name!_

"Do you like the manor so far, Carrie?" Lin asked.

Carrie nodded hesitantly. "It's very… big."

Lin laughed quietly, and that stirred up an unfamiliar warmth that came with ease. Carrie felt her tense muscles loosen a little.

"Well put," Lin said.

"I don't know about you guys," Jason said with a grin, "but school's out, and I'm gonna celebrate with a _monster_ nap."

He walked past them toward one of the doors in the hallway. "You comin', Danny?"

Daniel nodded silently, glanced once more at Carrie, and then followed his friend.

Nicole rolled her shoulders, making the joints pop. She smiled at Carrie and Lin. "Well, it was nice to meet you, Carrie. Hey, Lin, you want to come hang out in my room later?"

Lin shook her head, giving Nicole a small smile. "Maybe later. I think I'll show Carrie around for a bit."

Nicole shrugged. "Suit yourself." She then disappeared into one of the other rooms.

Lin took Carrie's hand and led her down the stairs. Carrie allowed herself to be led. She was still surprised that this girl actually _wanted_ to be around her. Nobody ever wanted to be around her. No one wanted to be friends with the butt of everyone's jokes and the perpetual screw-up.

"So, you're telekinetic, right?" Lin asked, looking at Carrie with curious eyes.

Carrie nodded. "Yes."

"It's an interesting ability, I'll tell you that. You're telepathic, too?"

"I think so…"

"You think so?"

"Well, I hear what people are thinking if I concentrate…"

"Yep, that's telepathy. Seems like it'd be a useful power."

"Are you a… a Freak too?"

Lin smiled and nodded. "Mm-hm. Everyone here is. It's kind of nice being around people my own age who are different like me."

"You mean, the others have powers too?"

"Oh, yeah. Nicole can manipulate ice, Danny can create and control electricity, and Jason's a werewolf."

Carrie stared at Lin with wide eyes. "A… A werewolf?"

"Yeah. He's pureblood, too."

"But… But I thought… I thought werewolves weren't real."

Lin chuckled. "There's a lot of things that Normals don't think are real. Most of them are, though."

Carrie thought about that for a moment, then asked, "What's your power, Lin?"

Lin's smile faded, and a sadness came to her eyes. She held up her gloved hands and looked down at them. "I… I can drain people's auras just by touching them."

"Auras?"

"Life-force, Carrie. Their souls."

"Oh…"

Lin closed her hands into fists and lowered them. She gave Carrie a sort of wistful smile. "It's okay, though. I can control it. When I was younger, people learned that if I absorbed the aura of another Freak, I gained their powers. They _forced_ me to absorb auras. The government wanted a new weapon, and I provided the opportunity to create one."

"W-Wow…"

"Yeah. I have some really useful abilities now… because of that. I've never taken the aura of another human being since then."

"Lin?"

"Hm?"

"When you absorb someone's aura, what happens to them?"

Lin sighed sadly. "They die."

Carrie was silent.

Lin's eyes had grown a bit more serious. "I know what you did in Chamberlain, Carrie."

Carrie looked at her, stunned. "Wha-What?"

"Don't worry," she assured. "The others don't know. And I won't tell them if you don't want me to. We're alike, y'know. We've both killed."

"Y-Yeah…" Carrie dropped her gaze to the floor.

Lin put a hand on Carrie's shoulder, making the girl jump. "I know it's pretty scary, being in a new place and all after what happened to you. I can be your friend, if you want."

Carrie stared at her, eyes wide. "Really?"

Lin nodded and smiled. "Yeah, we can be friends."

Now it was Carrie who was smiling.

Lin chuckled. "What? Didn't you have friends back in Chamberlain?"

"No," Carrie replied, shaking her head.

"Oh. Well, forget about those people. They can't hurt you anymore."


	7. Chapter 7

* **Chapter Seven ***

* * *

"Sam, turn that damn radio down," Esther snapped. "I'm trying to work."

Sam looked up from the book he was reading. "What?"

"The radio," she replied. "Turn it down."

The jazz playing on the small radio next to Sam wasn't bothering him at all, but he obliged to her request. "And what are you working on so fervently, Esther?"

Esther didn't answer immediately. She moved to one of the glass tanks pressed against the left-hand wall. It was set up with sand and small Australian shrubs. Three dark tan snakes were curled up on rocks under heat lamps. Esther reached into the tank without hesitation and picked up one of the five-foot serpents, firmly grasping it behind the head. The snake hissed irritably, but made no move to strike as Esther carried it over to the table where she was working.

"_Oxyuranus microlepidotus_ is fifty times more toxic than a cobra," Sam stated, watching Esther closely. "Yet you handle them as if they were harmless rabbits."

"It can't harm me. You know that, Sam." Esther looked up at him. "Would you be so kind as to slide that jar over here?"

Sam set his book aside. The jar she'd asked for had clear latex stretched over the top – prepped for snake milking. Sam watched Esther lower the snake's head to the jar. The animal hissed, louder than before, and bit right through the latex. Esther massaged its jaws with her fingers, and yellow liquid spit into the jar. She held the snake there for a minute before lifting its fangs free. "Take that to the freezer, would you, Sam?"

"I really wish you would at least wear gloves when you milk the snakes," Same said, placing the jar in the portable freezer nearby.

Esther lightly stroked the hissing serpent, and it relaxed and quieted under her fingers, consenting to coil around her forearm. "I don't need protective gear," she replied.

"I'm well aware of that, but it would make me feel better."

Esther chuckled. "You don't have to worry about me, Sam."

Sam approached the table and put a hand on her shoulder, gently rubbing the blade with his thumb. Esther gave him a smile, then held the snake up, showing it to Sam. "Fifty times more toxic than a cobra," she said, repeating Sam's earlier statement. "That's why the clinics pay so much for taipan venom."

The laboratory door opened and the two moved away from each other as Lin entered with Carrie right behind her. "And this is the lab," Lin was saying. "We don't usually come down here unless one of the doctors calls us."

"I was here earlier," Carrie replied.

Lin saw Sam and Esther, smiled, and waved. "Hello, Dr. Lee. Hello, Dr. Ahdel."

"How many times do I have to tell you, Lin?" Esther said with a chuckle. "Please, just call me Esther." The taipan had wound itself around her neck and shoulders with its head resting quietly on her collarbone. Esther have Carrie a smile. "It's good to see you up and about. How are you feeling?"

"Better." Carrie lightly touched her left temple. "My head still hurts."

"That will pass," Sam stated professionally. "It would be wise for you to abstain from using your telekinesis until your brain has recovered."

Carrie nodded. "Yes, sir."

"Sam," Sam corrected gently.

"Sam," Carrie agreed.

Esther spun on her heels and strode over to a nearby table where a few vials and syringes were set up. She took one vial and filled a syringe with the light-colored fluid it contained, oblivious to the five-foot serpent wrapped around her shoulders.

"Don't mind Esther," Lin whispered to Carrie. "When she gets to working on something, _nothing_ can distract her."

Esther was quick to respond, speaking over her shoulder. "No, no. I'm not busy… not right now, anyway." She handed the filled syringe to Sam. "Minos needs his deworming medication. Might want to take the tranquilizer gun with you. You know how he can be."

Sam took the syringe from her. "Got it."

Sam left and Esther looked at the girls. "Lin, could you go get Jason for me?"

"Yes, ma'am."

Carrie watched Lin leave the room before turning her attention back to the Israeli woman. She noticed the six-pointed Star of David necklace she was wearing. Momma always said that Jews were as bad as the Methodists and the Baptists and the Congregationalists, but this woman – a Jewish woman – had saved her life. Like the Good Samaritan. She even had the same name as one of Carrie's favorite Biblical figures.

Esther moved toward the taipan tank and pulled the snake off her shoulders. She slid the animal back into the tank, where it slithered atop a rock and coiled up beneath one of the heat lamps.

"What were you doing?" Carrie asked, eying the snake tank warily.

"Snake milking," Esther replied.

"Snake milking?" Carrie looked confused. "How do you milk a snake?"

Esther laughed. "Well, it's not like milking a cow, if that's what you're thinking." Her dark brown eyes seemed to study Carrie closely. "Here, let me show you."

She led Carrie over to another table where there were more jars with latex stretched over the top. "You have to get the snake to bite the latex," she explained. "Then you get them to spit out some venom for you. You do that either by manually massaging the venom glands or by electrical shock. I personally prefer the manual approach."

"Why do you want snake venom?"

"I sell all kinds of venom to clinics all over the world, and they use it to make antivenom to save envenomation victims. It's one of the ways we keep the bills paid around here while doing some good in the world."

"Ma'am?"

"Yes, Carrie?"

Carrie lowered her eyes and asked the question that had been on her mind ever since Caitlin told her about her rescue. "How did you save me?"

"I beg your pardon?"

The girl pensively touched her own shoulder. "I… I remember Momma trying to kill me. She stabbed me with a knife. I think I almost died… But you and Miss Sinclair saved me, and there's not even a mark left."

A gravity came to Esther's eyes. Silently she took up a scalpel from one of the tables and held the blade over her arm. Carrie gasped when Esther cut into her own flesh. Red blood oozed from the wound, and yet Esther gave no indication that she was in any kind of pain. When she lifted the scalpel away, Carrie watched in amazement as the cut healed almost instantly, leaving no scar behind. Esther gave the wide-eyed girl a gentle smile.

"When I was young, I discovered that I wasn't normal," she explained. "My ability is called rapid cellular regeneration, meaning my cells reproduce up to fifty times faster than Normal cells." She scooped some of the blood onto the scalpel blade and showed it to Carrie. "My power makes the chemical make-up of my blood unique. Because of this, my body is immune to any form of disease, venom, or poison; my bodies' antibodies easily destroy any and all threats. And if I inject a living creature with my blood, they will gain my ability – but only for a minute or two."

Carrie clutched her shoulder. "Is that what you did to me?"

"Yes." Esther set the scalpel aside and cleaned up her arm with a paper towel. "It worked wonderfully, I think."

Carrie saw something flash in Esther's mouth, like light reflecting off metal. There was something odd about her teeth, but Carrie couldn't see them clearly with Esther's mouth barely open, even when she was talking.

"What are you staring at, Carrie?" Esther asked.

"Is there something in your mouth?" That same dark gravity returned to Esther's eyes, prompting Carrie to avert her gaze. "I'm… I'm sorry. It's none of my business…"

"It's alright," Esther replied. "It was an honest question. Carrie, there's a reason why we Freaks choose to live in the shadows, away from the Normals. Let me show you that reason."

Before Carrie could ask what she meant, Esther opened her mouth and drew her lips away from her teeth.

Carrie froze.

Esther's upper canines were long and narrow, like snake fangs. She noticed small pouches cut into her bottom gum line, and Carrie guessed that was where the fangs rested when Esther's mouth was closed.

Esther wasn't the least bit surprised when the color drained from Carrie's face. She closed her mouth and sighed. "There are some Normals who claim to be doctors and scientists," she said softly. "Butchers is a better word. They only seek to turn most of us into weapons." Esther tapped one of her fangs. "High-end prosthetics over hypodermic needles." She touched her cheekbones. "Artificial venom glands surgically inserted into my upper jaw. Connect the fangs and the glands with some tubes and you've got yourself a human snake."

"My… My god…" Carrie couldn't think of anything else to say.

"This was done to me so I could become a weapon for the military. I thank God every day for giving me the strength and will to escape that place. That's why Caitlin tries so hard to keep you and the others a secret. She knows of the atrocities performed on Freaks, and she doesn't want any of you to suffer such a fate."

Images flashed in Carrie's mind: terrifying imaginings of being strapped to a metal table while men in white surgical masks leaned over her – one powering up a medical bone saw and then slowly lowering it onto her cranium.

"Carrie? Are you alright?"

Carrie blinked a few times and nodded.

Esther didn't look convinced. "I don't mean to frighten you, girl, but you should understand why safe houses like Sinclair Manor exist."

Carrie opened her mouth to say something, but decided against it. She wanted to ask why anyone would want to perform such horrible experiments on their fellow human beings. Perhaps it was the same reason why high school students divided themselves into exclusive cliques, and why the Popular crowds felt the need to ceaselessly torment their less fortunate peers. Who really knew why people did what they did?

The laboratory door opened and closed, and Jason came into the room, his hands shoved into the pockets of his jeans. "Lin said you wanted to see me, Dr. Ahdel?" He aimed a friendly smile at Carrie. "Hey, Carrie."

Esther went to one of the white cabinets and pulled out a tube of some sort of medicinal gel. "Flea repellent." Esther held the tube up pointedly. "You have to apply this daily during the summer, remember?"

Jason chuckled nervously, his cheeks flushing a little. His brown eyes flicked from Esther to Carrie for a brief moment, then moved back to Esther. "Do we have to do this now?"

Esther raised an eyebrow. She noticed the way he kept glancing at Carrie, and she laughed herself. "Afraid of embarrassing yourself in front of the new girl? Honestly, Jason. You're being ridiculous."

Carrie blinked at Jason. _Why does he keep looking at me?_

Jason moved as if to make a beeline for the door, but Esther caught a handful of his t-shirt. She easily held him still and squeezed some of the gel onto the back of his neck, just below his hairline. She only released him once she'd recapped the tube and returned it to its cabinet. "Rub that in now."

"Yes, ma'am," Jason grumbled, obediently rubbing the back of his neck.

Carrie put her hands over her mouth to keep herself from giggling. She'd seen one of her neighbors back in Chamberlain, Mrs. Horan, apply her dog's flea medication in the same manner (except she put it on the dog's back, not its neck) and that dog _hated_ it. Jason reminded her of the dog. Still, it was odd seeing flea medication applied to a boy…

"Werewolves are susceptible to everything regular canines are," Esther stated, answering Carrie's unasked question. "Fleas and other pests love them just as much as dogs."

Jason grumbled something under his breath.

"Be a good sport, Jason," Esther said to the boy. "And I'll see you down here tomorrow."

"_Great_," the werewolf replied in a sardonic tone. "I can't wait."


End file.
